


An Age That Calls Darkness Light

by AndyAO3



Series: Tales of a Tiny Angry Warden [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Backstory, Bullying, Gen, I would put a TW on it but I'm not sure which specific ones to put, Teddy does not have a happy life, Violence, asshole templars, let's just say that the world of Thedas isn't a happy place in general, lots of bad shit happening to a little kid, so how about we say it's not a fic for people who are easily made uncomfortable, this is not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 16:32:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2395214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndyAO3/pseuds/AndyAO3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it takes a child's eyes to see the simple things that are wrong with the world.</p>
<p>Prequel to A Bear To Work With.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Age That Calls Darkness Light

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS NOT A NICE FIC AND I AM SORRY. For anyone who follows A Bear To Work With, it's pretty much Teddy Surana pre-Circle, before he turned bitter and angry.

(Art by me)

 

To any outsider, the Denerim alienage was a foul, dirty, run-down, and downright _depressing_ place. The buildings were little more than shacks, leaned against each other for support because it was unlikely that many of them had the strength to stand on their own anymore. In that way, they buildings resembled the people that lived there, with the thin and repeatedly-patched walls of their homes neatly paralleling the threadbare clothes they wore, neither of which protected them very well from the harsh Ferelden winters.

But Teodorus Surana wasn't aware of how bad it was. He was six years old, and the alienage - and in particular, the orphanage - was all he knew.

To him, there was nothing else in the world, and there didn't need to be, because everyone in the alienage was family, even the orphans. Grown-ups talked about things like _freedom_ an awful lot, but he didn't quite know what that was, except they seemed to want it pretty badly. The things grown-ups wanted didn't always make sense to him then, because they never wanted the kinds of things he wanted.

Things like trousers that weren't skritchy. That would be nice. And more of the orphan matron's stories about the Dalish, and their white deer-things, and their hunters that moved silently like cats (except not really like cats because the Dalish probably didn't lick themselves clean, or have those tiny bitey bugs - flees? No, fleeing means running, that couldn't be it - that brought sickness, right?) and then pounced on humans that got too close and cut off their ears and wore them as necklaces. Or maybe one of the kids had made that last part up. They tended to do that when they thought stories were boring.

He didn't think the stories were boring, though. He always listened. Even when the matron started talking about the gods and the long-lost land of the elves, and a time lots and _lots_ of years ago when elves were immortal. He wasn't totally sure of what being immortal meant, but he knew it had something to do with not dying _ever_.

If he could live forever, he could have long enough to learn how to read, maybe. And then he'd read all the books. Every book ever. He'd read and read and read until his eyes fell out and then he'd put them back in and read some more. And by then there would have been more books written so he could read those too, so he'd _never_ get bored, and never have to tell people he was bored (because when he did that he got assigned to doing dishes again, even though he couldn't reach the lever for the water pump and had to do a jump thing to reach it and dropped stuff and got yelled at).

The other kids laughed at him for wanting to do something like that, but he'd been serious when he'd said it. He _loved_ the idea of putting an idea down with words on paper. Because that meant the words lasted longer than when you just said them, didn't it? And it meant you could share that with other people without having to say it again and again. He didn't like having to say things again and again. Why couldn't people just listen the first time?

The only time that anyone ever listened to him was when he was asleep, when he was dreaming. In the land of dreams, he wasn't so little as he was when he was awake, and he didn't get sick. He could make things happen in his dreams, like how just thinking about it could have him lifting really heavy things that he normally couldn't. Once he even rode around on a griffon, and talked with it for a while. He could talk to animals in dreams, after all. Except a lot of times they didn't look quite like animals should look. But since a lot of things in dreams didn't look the way they should look, it didn't bother him that much.

No one believed him about his dreams, though. Not until he was able to show them.

\---

Teo was little and weird; this was a good combination for bullies. It meant he had few who would come to his defense, and made him an easy target for them.

On a wet, miserably overcast summer day, they were in just enough of a sour mood to catch him when he was sent to the water pump to get a bucketful for the laundry. The bucket was heavy; it wasn't hard for them to knock it out of his feeble hands. They laughed when the blow made him stagger, when he leaned against the pump and glared at them.

Their leader was a big, rough-looking boy who was known for being mean-spirited. He wasn't the biggest or the smartest in the bunch, but he was just smart enough to get away with things, and just big enough to intimidate littler kids. His name was Jehryn.

"You're as pathetic as a human," the boy crowed, and his goons laughed like it was funny. It wasn't. But Teo wasn't about to tell him why; it'd be a waste of words.

Instead, he straightened up and puffed his chest out, making himself seem as big as he could. "I'm not scared of you," he said.

"Oooohh!" Jehryn stepped forward and made a show of leaning down until he was at eye level with Teo, grinning from ear to ear. "Wanna pick a fight, little worm?"

Teo huffed angrily, and with all his tiny might, he swung his fist at Jehryn's face. The other boy caught it in his hand without even having to duck, and laughed at the attempt. Then he took Teo's hand and twisted it back until there was a _pop_ , and Teo screamed.

And it was only then that the bigger boy let go, still chuckling as he straightened again and shook his head. "I almost feel sorry for you, worm. But, y'know. Then I remember that you're faking sick all the time to get out of doing chores, and pretending you're weak so grown-ups will be nice." His grin took a wicked turn. "Then I don't feel so sorry anymore."

"I'm _not_ faking!" Teo yelled, tears in his eyes from the pain. His wrist _hurt_. The kind of hurt that stabbed down into his arm and through his hand. He clutched it to his chest and glared daggers at the other boy.

"Don't lie. I've seen how the matron babies you." Jehryn wasn't going to be convinced. He had his own idea in his head, and nothing would change it. Teo had known that going into this.

Except one of the goons spoke up. "Uh, Jehryn, we might get in trouble for this. I think you broke his wrist."

Jehryn whipped around and smacked the goon in the face; a tall boy, gangly and awkward. Darrion. The boy stumbled back and gawked at his leader with hurt and betrayal in his eyes.

"Don't pussy out on me, Tabris!" the bully snapped, before turning back to Teo. "You little _shit_. You're even doing it to my own clan, aren't you? Making them feel sorry for you so they'll turn against me."

Teo narrowed his eyes, but didn't say a word. Anything he said would be twisted to help the bully's case. That was how bullies worked. But even so, he was certainly _thinking_ that what Jehryn had wasn't a clan, and that Jehryn himself wasn't a Keeper. Not to mention that _someone_ was going to get their mouth washed out with soap later if the grown-ups knew he was talking like that.

"Silent, huh," Jehryn said with a sneer. The bully shook his head. Turned away, as if to leave.

Teo knew the tactic, though. So when Jehryn spun on his heel to take a swing, Teo gathered his will like he'd done so many times in his dreams, and thrust out with it.

He hadn't expected Jehryn to go flying. Definitely didn't expect him to be thrown into the air like he'd been knocked aside by a speeding bronto. Certainly hadn't thought that the force of it would slam him into a building with a sick _crunch_ ing sound of bones being smashed. But when Jehryn slumped to the ground, silent and unmoving, Teo pulled himself up to his kind of meager full height and stuck his chin out as he glared at the remaining bullies.

Darrion was the first one to speak. " _Magic_ ," he whispered, his lip trembling as his eyes darted between Teo and their fallen leader.

"Anybody _else_ wanna say I'm weak?" Teo asked them, feeling a little giddy in the wake of his sudden triumph.

They ran.

\---

The Matron found out.

"What did you _do_?" she asked him, her voice raspy and hoarse. It sounded like she had been crying. The thought of the Matron crying because of _him_ was enough to make it hard to come up with a good excuse, but even if he'd been able to, he had a feeling that it wouldn't have kept her from sending him to bed without supper that night, after his wrist had been wrapped up. He didn't see Jehryn again.

For the next few days, he wasn't allowed outside. No one made him do chores, which was nice. But what wasn't so nice was that no one was speaking to him, or telling him what he'd done. The other kids wouldn't even look at him, and whenever the Matron saw him, she'd get really sad and have to look away.

He kept remembering how Darrion had called what he'd done _magic_. Like it was some terrible, scary thing. And, okay, maybe it was. But he was little, he was always sick, and he'd never been very strong. What was he going to do, glare at people until they left him alone? He'd tried that and it hadn't worked so well.

Four days after the fight, he saw his first Templar.

The Matron didn't want to let them in. There were a bunch of them; towering humans in thick plate and robes, equipped with deadly-looking swords and gleaming shields that bore the signature heraldry. He watched with wide eyes from a doorframe as the Matron completely broke down.

"No, please, you can't, he's only a child, he doesn't understand--" she pleaded, but one of them shoved her up against a wall and her words turned to nonsense and sobbing.

"If you continue to resist us, woman, you will be found guilty of aiding a known apostate," the Templar, and by the voice, Teo knew it was a woman. "Now, tell us where the mage is."

Shakily, the Matron pointed to Teo. The Templar let her go and nodded towards him. Another one walked over to him, accompanied by the heavy clanking of plate, and picked him up by the arms. He screamed and kicked, but the Templar holding him was far too strong for him to hope to resist.

Templars were bullies, too.

With that thought in his head, he snarled and lashed out with his will again, like he had before with Jehryn. If he could knock one bully over, he could knock another over just the same. He'd knock them all down if he had to.

Except something _grabbed_ onto his magic. He felt it as much as he would've felt being kicked in the chest, and the sensation was like being choked, even though nothing had come anywhere near his throat. He gasped for breath, and as his eyes darted around, he caught the gaze of the Templar that had pinned the Matron before.

Her hand was up in the air, clenched into a fist, and behind her visor he could see that she'd done this a hundred times before, to a hundred helpless people like him, and he was _terrified_. "That's enough out of you," she said coldly, jerking her fist back. And it was like the magic was suddenly _yanked_ from him, his energy and his will torn away, and then he was allowed only a few moments to reel from the feeling before the Templar that was holding him _thwack_ ed him soundly in the head and he was out cold.

\---

He wished he remembered less of the trip to Kinloch Hold. Less of the bouncing along painfully in a cart, less of the being shoved around by the Templars, less of the creepy silence and gut-churning quiet fear that made him feel a little sick inside. Less of the sticky, hot summer days along the way that made his ragged clothes stick to his skin, less of the bright sun beating down and turning him red as an apple wherever his skin was exposed.

It was almost a relief when they reached the lake and the Templars herded him into a similarly bouncy boat; at least the boat was a new experience, even if it made him feel even sicker than being afraid had. At least it meant that they were finally _getting_ somewhere. He'd heard them talking about a tower, sometimes, and when he saw the Circle looming in the distance for the first time, he wondered if there would be others like him there.

Maybe, for once, he'd be in a place where he wasn't the weird one. Maybe the Circle would be better for weird people, because they'd be with others like them, so they wouldn't have to be weird anymore.

But then they arrived at the tower and there were two more Templars outside the doors, who nodded to the Templar woman as she passed and called her Knight-Captain, and he knew that just because there were more weird people here didn't mean there weren't enough bullies to match them. Except this time, the bullies were even meaner.

He met the First Enchanter, a man with kind, sad eyes and streaks of grey through his red hair and beard. Then he was taken away as the lady Templar and the First Enchanter spoke with one another, glancing at him occasionally as they talked.

The lady Templar got a bit shouty. Something about a "dangerous criminal in the making" and "could already be maleficarum", from what he could hear on the other side of the room. When she was done yelling, the First Enchanter looked over and met Teo's eyes for a minute, and whatever he saw or whatever he might have been thinking, he seemed really sorry about it.

Teo didn't get to find out what it was he was sorry about, then. Because it wasn't long after that when the lady Templar was barking orders again, and Teo was hauled off. Into the dungeons for observation, she said.

He learned then, that there would be no help for him against the bullies here.

He was on his own.

 


End file.
